2 Perfect Wives
by Sam-Tony
Summary: Gibbs' thoughts on finding Tony chained to his bed. preslash, GibbsDiNozzo


Perfect Wives

I run my hands down his arms. My voice is hard and mean when I ask, "This mean I can do anything to you that I want?"

Tony bites his lip and past that tell I can see him swallow before looking away, uncertain. Even without all of that I know he's nervous. Hell, probably scared. Because he knows I don't play around like this; what I say I mean. And he knows the next words that come out of his mouth I'll hold him to. I don't move not so much as an inch except for my hands, still touching him, still marking him with those firm, almost gentle trails on his arms.

"I...Boss.." He starts but doesn't have any idea what I want him to say which only confirms what I had come to suspect. Tony looks to me for his lead and it looks like this time is not going to be any different. His face creases in a bitter grimace and he turns away though I can still see him in the mirror. He's trying not to let the tears fall but I see them anyway. The whisper is slow in coming; defeated when it finally gets there. "What do you want me to say?"

I can't give in now even though his heart is breaking and taking mine with it. I can't. This is too important. Tony is too important to let him give in to himself. To what he only thinks he deserves.

"I want you to answer the question." I repeat in the same hard, merciless tone as before; no quarter. One hand leaving his arm, traveling to the chain that circled heavy around his wrist, I give it a tug, listening to the metallic, oppressive rattle it makes. Tony winces at the sound; of the chain, my voice or both I'm not sure and he's not looking at me. So correct that first. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, DiNozzo." He does and the tears are there, no longer hiding the fact that he thinks he's failed me - again. "Does this mean I can do anything to you that I want? Like he did to them?"

I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind. First the basic instinct to fight, to retain one's dominant sense of self in the face of attack or opposition. Then the images fly in - whatever scenario Tony had from the onset of all of this. Those take a little less time to process and I see the blush stain his face and neck. I don't smile though it's endearing and cute and sexy as Hell that as much as he relies on it, Tony really has no idea what that look does to me when it's honest. Next comes the fear. Because we all know that Leroy Jethro Gibbs with an extra B of Bastard doesn't say anything he doesn't mean. 

And that I never start a course of action that I don't intent to finish.

His eyes skitter as he thinks, his tongue darting out to lick lips that are dry. Lips that I want to moisten myself in such a way that has nothing to do with a glass of water but I won't. It has to be Tony's decision.

The skittering stops and he's suddenly still. Ah, he thinks he has it figured out and I hope and pray he's right. I won't hurt him unless he asks me too. But I will if he does. And God help me but that's something I don't want to do.

"I..." Slow and unsure but then he takes a deep breath and those green eyes finally meet mine; moist and red, spiky lashes and hesitant glance all. "I don't ..."

"Speak up, DiNozzo." I bark as he fails. As usual it seems to bolster his resolve; though this time there is a weary little smile, worn and ragged around his lips. Not the puppy dog antics he usually indulges in.

"No," he says, still soft but firm this time and I can't help but sigh in relief. "No," he says again, just the same though the smile is not quite as hesitant. "You're not allowed to hurt me."

"About time you figured that out." The words are gruff but Tony's smile gets even wider, chain rattling as he ducks the blow I don't even try to land on the back of his head. "Why?"

Tony sighs and I know he was expecting the question. And of course having to answer it. "Because you wouldn't."

I feel an eyebrow rise at that. He's right but I want to know why he thinks so. "I wouldn't?"

"No, you wouldn't. Because I wouldn't want you to."

"And this?" I ask lifting his wrist, chain and all. An offhand part of me is also praying he has the key.

"I thought..." He licks his lips again and sighs. He's tired. Drained; emotionally from the case and all the dancing around he felt necessary with McGee and the female officer - physically from the search and the victim's beaning him with a bedside lamp. He doesn't stop though and that's good because he needs to say this. To figure out what it all means to him and let it sink in. Tony is nothing like the kidnapper in this case. And he isn't like the victim either. "I thought this was what I wanted. From you."

"And now you're not so sure?"

"No."

"Why do you think that is, DiNozzo?"

"Because this isn't who I am." That said he looks up at me. "It's not who I want to be with you."

"And who do you want to be?"

And he finally gets it. He finally understands and in that understanding, Tony's dawning is as brilliant, as bright and as beautiful as any ball of fire that ever rose above the ocean.

He breathes only one word. But he gets it.

"Myself." 


End file.
